Bearers of the Black Staff

“They’re up there,” Xac said suddenly, breaking into his thoughts.

He looked at where the boy was pointing. A cluster of Elves was constructing a stairway that ran from the ground through a series of platforms to a house settled high in a thick stand of spruce. The stairway was framed and anchored, and the men were now engaged in setting the treads in place, all except for the Elf standing at the foot of the steps, who was issuing directions.

Tasha Orullian was large by any standard, but for an Elf he was huge. The Elves were not a big people, few standing over six feet. But Tasha stood six-five out of his boots, which meant that wherever he went in the city of Arborlon, he stood out. Broad-shouldered and long-limbed, he was strong beyond any measure Panterra had been able to devise and hard as iron.

He glanced around as Xac approached with his companions and gave a yelp. “Xac Wen! What have you done, you scullion’s brat? Brought outsiders of obviously disreputable character into our midst? Have you lost your mind?”

The boy flushed bright red and before either Pan or Prue could say anything to discourage him, he had whirled on them, a razor-sharp long knife in hand, poised to fight. “It’s not my fault; they lied to me!” he screamed back at the other.

“Wait, hold on, you little madman!” Tasha threw up his arms in dismay as he walked quickly over to the boy and snatched the knife away. He was like a big cat, smooth and lithe and powerful. “Give me that before you hurt yourself. Must you take everything I say so literally?”

The boy, who clearly had no idea by now what was going on, glared at him. “They said they weren’t entirely human! They claimed they were Elves!”

Tasha gave Panterra and Prue a questioning look and then nodded soberly. “Yes,” he said, his dark face stern, “they are. I know they don’t look it, but deep down inside, where it matters, they are.”

“But they …”

“Welcome home, little Elves,” Tasha greeted Panterra and Prue, ignoring Xac’s protestations. “I’ve missed you.”

He reached out and gave each a bone-crushing hug, going only slightly easier on the girl than the boy. His chiseled features brightened with delight as he released them. “Hmm, you’ve still got some growing up to do, but you seem more mature otherwise. There’s a hint of intelligence in your otherwise dim-witted eyes. Been doing something important, have you? Is that why you’ve come?”

“Something like that,” Panterra answered. He glanced over at Xac. “We need to talk about it.”

Tasha Orullian untied the scarf that was holding back his long black hair and wiped the sweat from his face. “Building stairways to houses suspended in trees was getting boring anyway.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Tenerife!” he shouted. “Look who’s come to visit!”

A slightly smaller figure appeared through the door of the tree cottage and waved before starting down. With deceptive ease, he swung from one post to the next, one platform to the next, and vaulted the last ten feet to the ground unaided. “Panterra Qu!” he cried, coming over. “And little sister! What a nice surprise.”

He embraced them both, not so roughly, but every bit as enthusiastically, slapping both on the back in the bargain. Tenerife was a smaller version of his twin, lighter and shorter and less of a presence, but still unmistakable. Not so physically imposing, he was also not so rough-made, his features more finely wrought. Like his brother, he was dark-complected and wore his black hair long and tied back from his face.

“Good to see you, Tenerife,” Panterra greeted him.

“Come to the house,” Tasha invited, sweeping them up like leaves with his long arms outstretched. “We can have something to eat and drink while we talk. Xac Wen!” he shouted, noticing that the boy was trying to tag along. “That’s all for today. Go find a pack of wild dogs to play with. Go wrestle a Koden or something.”

The boy glared at him. “You wait until I grow up!” he shouted at Tasha Orullian.

“I should live so long!” the tall man shouted back, but grinned nevertheless. “He’s a handful now, that one,” he said to his guests as they walked away, leaving the boy standing at the foot of the stairs. “I can’t imagine what he’ll be like when he gets bigger.”

“The same, only more so,” Tenerife grunted. “Imagine that.”

They passed down several trails to a cottage nestled with a handful of others in a grove of towering oaks, seating themselves on benches at a table set to one side of the entry. Tasha excused himself to go inside and then returned almost immediately with tankards of ale and a platter of cheese, fruit, and bread.